


Don't call me that

by hiddendaisy1821



Category: Jessica Jones (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Matt is fine as is Jessica, PTSD, Post-Episode: s01e08 The Defenders, Reluctant Friendship, the drinking and the skulking is just what they do on the regular basis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-15 20:06:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13620741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddendaisy1821/pseuds/hiddendaisy1821
Summary: “So why me then, why am I allowed to know about the miraculous resurrection of Matt Murdock?” After the fall of the building Matt goes to the one place no one would dare look for him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Picks up right after that Defenders season 1 ending. These two and their reluctant friendship were my favorite thing about the show, in case you can't tell. They both have their own demons to face and would rather walk through hell alone then admit they need help. What would it take for them to reach out and admit that is what this story is about. Enjoy!

**Chapter 1**

_Foggy... Foggy... Foggy._

A loud note is what awakes him. That is until he remembers he is not in his apartment anymore. The sheets are rough and unfamiliar, a haphazardly tossed blanket over him and the smell are somewhat familiar.

Alcohol and stale milk. He was in a place no one would dare look for him.

The apartment of Jessica Jones, one Alias Investigations.

An involuntary groan escaped him. His head still didn't feel right. Most of his senses were back to normal, as normal for him anyway. The other ones and most of his body as he disappeared from the monastery where Maggie nursed him from the dead were still far from recovery.

A sudden smash from the other room ripped him from his musings. Glass breaking was mostly what his senses picked up. Another bottle wasted for Miss. Jones.

“Good morning to you too Jessica.”

He heard a growl from the other room.

“Shut it Murdock. This here is my own personal alarm clock. Works wonders for my headache.” She half mumbled, followed by a frustrated sigh. Then her footsteps towards him. Her foot nudged him as he sat up on the beaten down couch.

“Scoot...” she said as she made her way next to him. Plumping down and groaning against what he assumed was morning light coming through the window. The woman drank a lot.

“Another winning night for you Miss. Jones.”

A surprised laugh was torn from her.

“Don't call me that. Makes me think of mummy dearest and I don’t have enough alcohol in this place to start up that train of thought. This is the way I go about my life...”

She shoved another glass from the side counter and placed it in her lap before draining it.

“If you don't like it, the door is right over there. Hell, I'd even kick you through it if you didn't already look so miserable.”

The smell of alcohol hit his nose and he had to turn his head away. His back protested at the sudden movement.

“You’re the boss. I don’t care how you live your life.”

He could feel her gaze on him for a moment before she said, “Good. Now tell me again why you are being an idiot and not telling anyone that you are alive.”

His shoulder ached as he tried to shrug it off.

“Told you before. It is better for people I care about not to be under constant threat of knowing Daredevil. Get them back to their normal lives.”

She scoffed before taking another drink.

“Yeah right.”

He slowly turned towards the sound and could once again feel the alcohol wash over him.  It reminded him of that hospital smell and he hated those, but her... not so much.

“So why me then, why am I allowed to know about the miraculous resurrection of Matt Murdock?”

He could sense her reservation, still unsure how much he valued her as a person. The small event of them defending Hell’s Kitchen with Luke and Danny was still fresh in his mind. Since then he admired how well she connected things and was no nonsense about stuff she cared about. So different from him.

“You, I think, will be able to handle it and maybe help me along the way.”

He could feel her measuring him up, his response, how truthful he was being and if he was worth it all. He waited patiently. No rush because he needed to take his time this time around. Make it right.

“Let's say I believed your bullshit excuse. What do you need my help with?”

He smiled as he heard curiosity in her voice. She was in, at least to hear him out.

“Well I need your expertise Miss. Jones.”

“What, want me to show you all the good places for getting drunk...”

“No not that, more along the lines of your day job.”

His head turned towards the door where he knew the name of her little business was written.

_Alias Investigations_

“Okay... who are we looking for?”

His mind went absolutely blank when he heard the news earlier. It was the reason why he fled from the monastery. From Maggie.

“I need you to help me track down the man recently released from prison. The prison I helped put him in.”

Her exasperated laugh followed.

“Oh yeah, you put plenty there. Anyone in particular?”

His body ached and his back was stiff but he couldn't release the tension of his hands balling into fists so hard he knew he was shaking. He felt her still next to him.

“Wilson Fisk.”

_The Kingpin._

He could hear her draw a breath as the same thought probably went through her head.

After a moment of silence, he felt her stand up and toss the glass in the sink. Glass broke, again.

“You just leave that to me Murdock.”

As he felt tension leave his body for the first time in days he thought he just might, leave it to her. At least for a bit. For now.

“Not for long Miss. Jones.”

He almost felt her lips curve into a smile.

“I told you not to call me that. We are friends after all Murdock as much as it pains me to admit it.”

With that she headed for the door but not before he said, “Be careful Jessica.”

He was left with a laugh echoing in the specious room instead of an answer as she slammed the door of the apartment. Still he heard her down the hallway. 

“Aren't I always...eh...depending on your definition of careful.”

He couldn’t help the smile that stretched on his face. It was good to have people you could still count on. Maybe even call friends.  

\---//--

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so Matt and Jessica playing roomies continues… And they may or may not make some progress with the case…

It didn’t feel good that’s for sure. Her gut was never wrong and she knew that getting up and helping out one Matthew Murdock was one sure way to get herself in trouble. Not that she needed his help with that in the first place.    

Trouble found her just fine on her lonely self.

She moved slowly through the apartment, knowing that even a pin drop would alert Matt that she was back.

She had a productive day and night to say the least. Got a lead and went down the block to catch that lead and pummel the answers out of him. Not an easy task when the little bugger was so slippery but she managed it anyways.

_Yay for her._

Still, it only gave her more questions. Like why was Kingpin keeping low? Nowhere a peep about the man. Only that he was out and focusing on private ventures. It was a poor excuse at best, one that wasn’t going to fly with her, so she kicked eh... John...Johnny (they all sounded the same to her) a couple more times until he fessed up how Mr. Fisk had taken an interest in one Foggy Nelson and Karen Page.

Now that didn’t sit well with good ol’ Jessica. She needed to check it out and she did, but after finding that no one was tailing or asking about those two she gave it a rest, decided to call it a night and reward her productivity with a bottle of vodka that was tucked away in her desk drawer.

“You’re back,” a voice came from her right.

“Jesus, wear a bell or something!” she exclaimed, almost jumping back from shock. The fear was real. “Let a girl know you are awake and alert in a normal, human way.”

Matt only smirked at her rant. The right side of his face was still bruised but the man seemed to be oblivious to it. He sure could take a beating. Shame for such a nice physique to be pummeled time and time again. Oh well who was she to judge.

“Yes, I am back. Yay me.”

She made her way past and towards her trusty desk with the prize waiting for her in that drawer.

“And...”

She plopped on a chair and took the bottle out to take a swing. The sting soothed her nerves.

“It is the first day, what did you expect… Case closed?”

He hobbled to the dusty couch and placed himself carefully on it. She almost felt sympathy. Almost.

“No,” he groaned out. “But a lead or something would be nice.”

The silence was back and she had a feeling he knew more than he let on. Probably again with his ninja psychic powers or whatever. She wasn’t the one to question it.

“Yes, well I did get something, but it is small, nothing concrete or worth the headache you are currently giving me.”

He listened, not really moving or acknowledging her answer. Like he already knew. Weird bastard.

The wood of the chair creaked as she moved back a bit. The drink was not helping her keep a level head but she was just so exhausted and in need of a break.

Matt wasn’t the only one who suffered an ordeal from their little group outing. She saw Luke and let’s just say opening that door and seeing herself as the one not being able to get her life together was a major let-down. The man was in jail for Christs sake and still managed to become a local hero by the time they saw each other again. Seeing him in a relationship hurt. Still did, but she will not be the one to cause drama this time. She is drama free.

“At least I hope.”

“Hope for what?” came like a haunting whisper from the other side. God damn it she didn’t say that out loud.

“More booze.”

Matt was mostly out of it as far as she could see, with his head leaned back as if he was staring into nothing. As if he could stare.

“Mhm.”

She raised her eyebrows, probably looking like a stunned cat or something. He didn’t elaborate and neither would she.

“Get some rest Murdock. You still need to be able to make at least two steps before collapsing to make this partnership work.”

A half-hearted chuckle escaped him and she was glad that he was relaxing at least a little bit. Because from the looks of it he was always on edge, which put her on edge and in turn he gets edgier or whatever. Anyways it was not a pretty sight.

“Do I detect worry in your voice Jones? I am touched.”

“You will be after I toss you through this window. Enough of the chit chat, go get some rest before I make you.”

His eyes that for once were not covered in glasses were oddly looking through her. Like he knew she was there. Creepy, she wanted to say but then they flickered from right to left, like he was hearing something she didn’t, which he probably did.

“Your neighbour should really walk that dog of his. The mutt is restless.”

“Huh.”

Oh, that idiot from the ground floor never did take care of his dog. _Wait, he heard him?_ She can barely hear what’s going on this floor, let alone three floors down and she is pretty sure that mutt was not even barking.

“You can hear that?”

If he wasn’t her friend she would be majorly creeped out. Okay still was but I mean really…. _really_?! He simply went to lie back and make himself comfortable on that poor looking couch as if that whole Spidey senses thing was perfectly normal.

“Get some rest Jessica.”

What more was there to say?

“Yeah...”

She didn’t want to sleep because her own demons would come out to play. Better for alcohol to numb it all away. Easier not to look in the mirror.

_‘I agree.’ a_ whisper from somewhere behind her, and she snapped to attention knocking the glass over. Her eyes violently searched the place where the voice came from but nothing was there.

“What is it?” Matt asked, without even moving an inch. She scrambled to gather some of her wits.

“Nothing, knocked a glass...you do you.”

With that she got up and made her way to the bathroom. The light flickered as she came in. The water rushed and felt cool on her face as she pressed the pads of her fingers to her eyes. Not that voice, not again. She got rid of him.

_“Did you?”_

It echoed around her head making her feel dizzy. She grabbed the sink for some stability.

“It’s not real...” she repeated as the drops of water traveled down her face. The mirror reflected her but somehow different. Odd. What was wrong? She couldn’t place it. When she stared into her own eyes it all turned into a grotesque smile. A very familiar one.

_‘Smile Jessica.’_

The fear came from her very toes as she shook the small cabinet with her hands.

“It’s not real. Snap out of it damn it. Snap out!”

Her entire body shook as tears came to her eyes, the voice growing louder by the second. Her bathroom door was being banged on. Matt.

“Jessica, are you okay?”

She looked back in the mirror, but the fog from the warm water blocked her view.

“Yea I’m fine… can’t a woman have some privacy?”

She went to open the door but the dizziness came back in full force.

_‘Get back here Jessica!’_

She snapped her head towards the mirror, her vision going white enough for her to lose balance and slip, hitting her head on the sink and then…then there was only silence.

\--oo--


	3. Chapter 3

Most of the small place was covered in stillness. One of those quiet mornings, when you’re still not ready to be up so you close your eyes, hoping that maybe a couple of more minutes would do the trick. Not that he had much of a choice in the matter he thought, gently pressing on his still bruised ribs and ignoring the pain in his back. That’s what you get when you go face to face with some of the biggest criminal minds of New York City.

Wilson Fisk.

The name alone was enough for a lifetime of anxiety and so even after Matt himself was presumed dead to the world, he couldn't get over the fact that the man who used to rain terror in NYC was just waiting for the most opportune moment to strike back.

So here he was, at the most unlikely place anyone would ever think to look for him at. Alias Investigations. Let him be the first to admit that it is almost a step up from his recent ventures into his lawyer career that ended almost as spectacularly as it began.

Amidst the long-time battle with never ending onslaught of ninjas and all kinds of run of the mill villains, and a threat of Wilson Fisk looming over him Matt decided that this was the best course of action. That was until he realized that there was more to Jessica Jones than he first thought.

Sure, he could see the alcohol and the self-destructive behavior. Maybe even smell the fear of letting anyone too close which he understood all too well. Also, the overwhelming amount of strength the woman possessed could make anyone second guess themselves when letting someone into their life.

He was probably overthinking it but somehow, he could see his own scars and fears in her. The toll of doing the right thing, alienating everything and everyone for their own good. He could see it all, because it reflected in his own mirror image too.

That was the reason he knocked on her door.  Well, that and the fact she was a damn good PI and the super strength didn’t hurt either. Especially when you were faced with the Kingpin. 

 

Jessica certainly didn’t disappoint as she made work with little they had to go on. Still the moment she was back to the office she seemed on edge, and that in turn made him anxious which did nothing to ease her. Her heart rate was irregular, growing quicker with every second. All he could do as hope she could sort it out before they ran into real trouble.

The moment he tried to get comfortable, he heard commotion coming from the bathroom. Something was wrong. He made his way through the place, lightly brushing the side of the walls in hope of its vibrations telling him something more about what was going on. Maybe he could pick something up.

He asked her if she was alright and got a snarky comeback but it lacked the usual bite he was used to by now. That and the unmistakable quiver in her voice assured him that it really wasn't all as fine as she pretended it to be.

Suddenly, there was a bang on the other side of the door and he knew that it was a body collapsing, he recognized the dull sound easily, having been the victim on more days than not. He took a deep breath.

"This is going to hurt," he muttered to himself before slamming his weight against the door, making the door snap from the hinges and collapse. His senses were alert trying to pick up anything out of the usual. Maybe even Jessica snapping at him for being a paranoid idiot but nothing happened of the sort. He picked up on her body temperature and slow heartbeat - as if she was resting. He was sure she was not conscious.

Quickly he went to her, feeling her head for some sign of injury but was unable to detect anything.

"Come on…wake up Jessica."

She murmured something but remained unconscious. There wasn't much he could do and let's be honest with her way of life this wasn't much of a surprise, but he knew there was more to it. Slowly he picked her up and carried her to the small bedroom. Placing her on the bed he let her rest.

His mind went back trying to piece together the clues to figure out what led to this. He felt and heard nothing out of the sort and was certain there was no one there with her which led him to only possible conclusion. She somehow did it to herself.

Still he couldn’t be a 100% sure of the fact so he slid down the wall by her bedroom door and leaned against it. His little exercise only made his recent pains known but he pushed through it. Maybe they both needed to rest. The world could wait for a day.

But even if that was true, his stance remained alert and he stayed that way for the rest of the night or at least until he fell asleep in that awkward position sometime before down, his body finally giving into rest.

\---oo---

She felt like throwing up even before her eyes opened. A groan escaped as she felt her bones crack even from that small movement. Yep, it definitely felt like a hangover night. Except it wasn't and it didn't matter how much she wanted to pretend she didn’t remember, one name flashed before her eyes as if it was written in the flashy neon letters. Kilgrave.

Another involuntary sigh escaped her before she rubbed her eyes and saw the sleeping form of Matt Murdock a few feet from her. While she was thinking what an uncomfortable position he was sleeping in, last night’s events came to her and she reeled once more the need to gag.

She wished it was a hangover.

"I see you're up," came the voice from the other side of the room. The man just couldn't have pretended that he was asleep while she did her morning routine of feeling self-hatred and loathing towards the outside world. Seriously, where were his manners?

"You see nothing Murdock."

With that she tossed her pillow towards his annoying head only to have him catch it before it hit him. He did it all with nonchalance and it angered her even more for some reason. It almost looked like he wanted to say something but decided against it. Still, with him you never knew. They say the eyes are the windows to a person's soul, where his is currently residing somewhere else.

"You look better."

An un-lady like scoff escaped her. Not that she ever considered herself one.

"I'm sure being passed out on the bathroom floor was not my best look Murdock, but I appreciate the pick me up. Now, where's my booze?"

He smiled at her antics and it gave her that weird feeling that he always knew more than he let on, which is why she decided to tread lightly around him. That was, of course, after she finished passing out in the bathroom from which he carried her out being the good Samaritan he was. Damn him.

"In the store I would assume. You drink way too much for the budget you have."

Eh what is he, her financial advisor? She didn't need that now.

"Eh that's why I drink the cheap stuff. Works faster and doesn't burn a hole in my pocket every time I decide to do so."

She made a shooing motion for him to leave, even though the man couldn't see, but he slowly rose from his spot and with a slight nod of the head said, "I'll leave you to it."

She swore (not for the first time) that the man could see better than anyone. Getting ready as fast as she could, she was back into business mode.

"Want to talk about it?"

She snapped towards him back by the window listening to the streets below. She made herself relax in her usual chair of her "office".

"Talk about what?"

Ignorance is bliss.

"Last night."

She laughed at how it sounded all formal coming from him, when he should be talking about something else entirely. Like that man knew how to relax. Probably not without some red in his wardrobe.

"Yes, it was a date, you didn't call, I'm not mad. I've moved on."

"Jessica..."

The tone left no room for argument.

"Look you have your demons, I have mine. No need to share."

He said nothing and returned to whatever he was doing in the first place. That meant she could go do her own thing. Like back to the investigation. Time to chase down some leads.

"While you brood by the window, I'm gonna go and do some real work, ‘key? Don't wait up."

With that she was off. No need to give him any more opportunity to interrogate her about things she still didn't fully understand. As she made her way down the steps and onto the street, she exhaled in relief, only to roll her eyes at how ridiculous she was being.

_‘I agree. You are being ridiculous and we can't have that. Now can we Jessica?’_

She twisted her head to the entrance of her apartment building only to see a man in a purple suit casually leaning against the door.

She really hoped for that hangover now.

"This surely isn't real and you need to go away."

His smiled wider at her statement.

 _‘I can't, because you put me there,’_ he said all the while tapping his finger to his forehead.

Scratch that, she should've stayed in bed.

 


	4. Chapter 4

The noise was everywhere. The sounds of life pouring through every fiber of the city bellow him. He was still where Jessica left him, listening to the noise, helpless against the cries of help from the people he vowed to protect.

It was harder than he thought. He placed his palm to the cool glass of the window and tried to block it all out. He still wasn't ready, his body nowhere near the state to fight. And now he had Kingpin to consider, a man who turned into a monster the last time he visited him in prison. Like a calm calculated machine of evil just waiting to be unleashed at the world.

In a blink of an eye the man known as Wilson Fisk had stopped to exist and only Kingpin remained. The wolf without his pack, and a sole focus - to destroy one Matt Murdock. He knew there would be unexpected things to come but nothing prepared him for this - that in the middle of it all he would meet others like him. The ones who had clear goals of helping people, doing good. In the end they managed to overcome the latest evil together and all it cost him was everything.

The cool glass soothed the stinging warmth of his hand and he felt himself shudder as the cold started to spread, like a panic seeping into his body. How was he going to protect anyone now that Fisk knew his identity and had been preparing every single moment, every single day to come after him?

He wouldn’t stop until he put Daredevil six feet under ground. And when that building collapsed on Matt and Electra he got his wish. Matt may have made it out (barely) but a huge part of him he had to leave buried under that concrete.

It was the only way to keep his friends safe. Still Murdock blood chose differently. It wanted to live, his father's legacy giving him the ability to endure the punishment and overcome it. To stand on his two feet again.

_Get to work._

The wise voice of the once powerful sensei and a person who was a guide for him echoed in his head. It echoed in a hollow note, because now he couldn't do much of anything. He exhaled slowly, a shuddering breath that left his lungs aching.

"What are you up to Fisk?"

The small apartment answered with silence and no matter how much he racked his brain for answers he found none.

The more he thought about it the more questions piled up on him and he needed a distraction.

"This surely isn't real and you need to go away."

He picked up on the familiar voice in the distance. Jessica. He focused hearing only one heart beat - she was alone. So it wasn’t only him that had a strange habit of talking to himself. He wanted to ask her more about it after the little episode, but she shut down the second he did. Besides she was right, they all had secrets.

No need to share anyone's burden. He shook his head - Stick would be proud of him. An island.

"For how long?"

It was enough. He was only torturing himself, being useless. That’s not the way Stick taught him. No matter what the circumstance, if he couldn't change them it was time to meditate and let it go.

Or do the one thing that was even more difficult for him – ask for help.

For now he had no choice but to rely on Jessica yet he feared that the woman had more problems than she let on. Hopefully he would be able to help when the time arrives. He needed to be ready, for her and for his own sake.

Her self-confident footsteps echoed down the street and he figured he should stop being a creep and focus on getting himself better. Which meant back to the couch.

He managed to stumble his way back and finally relax on the poor thing. As his mind succumbed to sleep, he thought that maybe after all of this it would be interesting if he could actually be friends with someone like the resident PI.

Maybe.

_Stranger things have happened._

Really, he had to stop talking to himself. Soon... Eventually. He'll work on it.

\--oo--

Okay so this is precisely why she never did her work sober. She tried to anyways. Leaving Matt back there seemed like the only right thing to do. The living lie detector trying to poke around her head. Yeah, no thank you.

“Maybe you should’ve told him.”

She gave the man in a purple suit casually strolling next to her the stink eye.

“Zip it you. Why can’t you just go and bother some other screwed up chick. I’m sure your list of casualties is long enough to find someone interesting and bug them with your ghostly ways.”

He only shrugged with his shoulders as a smoothie popped out of nowhere in his hand.

“You snapped my neck remember. This is your cable reception, not mine.”

As a demonstration he moved his neck in an unnatural position remind her she broke it and then went back to slurping his smoothie. The man was a creep even when he was dead.

She chose to ignore him in hopes that he would go away. He looked more than happy to fill the silence.

That and acting casual as people walked through him. It really gave her the shivers.

“So let’s see the case at hand. The mystery that is the resurrection of the great Matthew Murdock. Which I think is neat by the way.” he said. “You made a friend Jessica.”

Ignoring the bastard was a mental exercise she was too exhausted to deal with. So she relented. Besides if he was being childish so could she.

“Hey I have friends, thank you very much. Made loads of them recently.”

He looked unimpressed as ever.

“I’m sure Trish is proud. But really back to the case. This Kingpin fellow. Doesn’t look like someone we should mess about. Hm?”

Since when was Kilgrave concerned about her? Even the tone made her shudder. She definitely hated Mr. Nice Guy more than the evil version.

“Hey maybe you needed a concerned friend. As they say don’t hate the pleya hate the game.”

She gave him a side eye that made most people back off but he simply continued to slurp on his smoothie. Really was that a never ending smoothie cup? Not fair.

“Still I bet that we would know more if we pay a visit to some of Murdock’s friends. So… Karen or Foggy? I’m sure you know what my preference is, don’t you Jess?”

_Smile Jessica._

The horror as she relived that scene with the girl in the elevator only reaffirmed what she knew about Kilgrave. How he liked to hunt and play, all the while driving his target insane. Like he tried with her.

Fuck that. She defeated him once. She could do it again. It’s just her mind playing tricks.

“Let’s talk to Foggy.”

Damn it. She said that out loud like he was actually there beside her and by the knowing look of victory he gave her, she knew it was a mistake.

“Splendid. He is closer anyways as he works for Hogarth. I do look forward to visiting that big office. The woman has taste.”

She only growled as she walked up the familiar steps. Matt really owed her for this and she was planning on collecting. 

She came to the reception desk.

“How may I help you Miss. Jones?”

She always forgot that people knew her there. Let’s be honest, with the amount of work she did for them they better have a rolling red carpet to great her, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“I need to see Foggy Nelson.”

The woman looked at her computer to confirm whatever and she was back to her in a second.

“Take the elevator. Floor 14, second door to the right.”

She nodded and was on her way. Elevators always put her on edge.

“Don’t be like that Jessica. I loved my work. You should appreciate it more instead of being mopey about it. Really… true artists are always misunderstood.”

She ignored him as best as she could and watched the floors tick away as she controlled her breathing. No need to lose her temper over… herself.

The elevator stopped and she was off. Nice long hallway stretched before her, tall glass panels instead of walls letting in a ton of light.

She easily noticed him.

A man whom Matt Murdock called his best friend. Not much to look at but she knew very well looks could be deceiving.

She knocked and then made her way inside. The man raised a finger as he finished a phone call and his gaze was on her.

“It’s you…”

She saw the wheels turning and the recognition set in.

“You fought with Matt… before.”

He couldn’t seem to get any other words out. Oh yay, she inwardly sighed. She was going to have to lie to another decent person.

“Yeah. That’s me.”

She didn’t know what to do. Shake his hand or not. Just sit. Eh.

“Jessica Jones, right?”

She was surprised he remembered. Guess there was more to him after all.

“Yes.”

“Oh come on what’s with the tameness, love?”

“Shut it you,” she snapped her head to the left scolding the man in purple as Foggy looked at her funny.

“Sorry? Is everything okay Miss. Jones?”

She only nodded as quickly as possible. No need for him to focus on her weirdness.

“Sorry, just had a really long day. Listen, I have some questions…”

He motioned for her to sit after a moment.

“Concerning what?”

She took a breath. No time for stalling.

“Concerning Wilson Fisk and his apparent disappearance after his much publicized release, after Murdock put him in prison.”

Foggy looked a bit shaken. The poor man probably knew firsthand how bad that man was. Maybe she has come to a right place for some answers not only about Fisk but the mystery that was Matt Murdock.

“Care to comment?”

He loosened his tie before taking a long sip from his glass. She could use a drink right about now too. Also the slurping noise was back. Damned that never ending smoothie.

“What’s there to comment?” he finally said, looking straight at her with somberness in his blue eyes. “I’ve been representing that monster for the past year.”

Well this was about to get interesting.


End file.
